


Senses

by AbAbsurdo



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Affection, Implied Sexual Content, Intimacy, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:15:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27944399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbAbsurdo/pseuds/AbAbsurdo
Summary: Each chapter takes a sense, twists it to fit the author's ideas and shows how it connects two people like Thomas and Richard.Chapter one: EyesightChapter two: Touch
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Comments: 33
Kudos: 36





	1. Eye Contact

He first noticed it outside the police station.

Not about him, no. Richard's gaze was kept captive in Thomas' form long before he learned his first name, the very moment he was led to his temporary room by Downton's Butler.

"Why are you smiling?" Thomas gazed at him behind his silver-rimmed glasses, letting the book he was reading to rest on the table opposite Richard's newspaper. Thomas didn't read the newspaper any longer. Something about the print hurt his eyes, he said. Richard had no problem reading to him though, especially when they lay on their bed. Richard's lips curve upwards, unable to hide the pleasure of Thomas' squinting his eyes at him.

"I'm just happy."

"You are reading the news. What's so happy about it?" The war was crippling them. But they were old, not virile enough and old wounds made it impossible to be there fighting among their countrymen.

"I wasn't reading. I was thinking." And here it was again. The intense gaze.

"What were you thinking?"

"Most people don't look you in the eyes. Have you noticed it?"

Thomas rolled his eyes, and glanced at the ceiling with a long suffering sigh, before staring back at him again. "Well, yes. Is that a reason to be happy?" he considered the thought. "Well, in depends on the alternative, I'd say."

"That's not why I'm happy."

Thomas munched on a biscuit, waiting for Richard to continue. "Go ahead, I'm waiting."

Richard got up, skirted around the table and stood in front of Thomas' chair. He knelt in front of him. All the while Thomas was following him with his eyes.

And again, he didn't follow Richard's movements. His gaze was locked on Richard's face.

"Do you remember the night outside the police station," Richard asked, hands set on Thomas' thighs.

"The night you ditched me, all alone in a bar?" Thomas pretended to be thinking about it, and then looked down at him again. "Vaguely."

"That's not how I remember that night." Thomas reached his hand over, the last bite of his biscuit close to Richard's mouth. He opened it and Thomas fed it to him looking deep in his eyes, amusement dancing in his own. "It's nice."

A warm hand rested on top of his. "Daisy brought them. She wanted me to tell her my opinion. It's a new recipe, she says. I don't believe her, that's how my Ma used to bake them."

"And for the sake of the truth, it was you who ditched me to go dancing and then got arrested."

"Ha! I knew you still hold it against me." Thomas' gaze was as intense as always, mirth lurking in the sea of grey, his fingers slipping through Richard’s. Richard bent his head to his lap, hiding his smile. He brought their hands to his face, lips against Thomas' knuckles.

* * *

Outside the police station, darkness all around them, it was dangerous, and Richard knew it, but he didn’t even glance beyond the man in front of him to see if anyone was watching them. Alas Barrow was in shock and apprehensive, back to getting closed tight in himself like an oyster protecting its treasure from others.

He had no time to pull his glove off. Was it disrespectful? Could he have had assumed too much? What if?

_“You just need to be a bit more circumspect in future, Mr. Barrow.”_

He could see his eyes widening in comprehension, and as he lifted his hand, he expected those eyes to follow the movement.

They didn’t. The steady gaze persisted on his eyes, unflinching, lingering, wide, clear, a unique power connecting them with a bright fire.

His fingers touched Thomas’ lips, but Thomas’ stare found abode in Richard’s eyes, _two souls catching fire_.

* * *

Richard took Thomas’ glasses off, his lover leaning his head to the side to help him remove them. In all the years Richard knew Thomas, and they were lesser than he’d like, he regretted those he lived without knowing him, had learned the truth was always deep inside the grey lakes of affections. The years passing hadn’t dulled the vibrancy of the emotions reflecting in them

Richard had spent hours lost in their colour and emotions, fingers mapping the corners and edges of the beloved face when Thomas slept, exhausted from nerves and deep feelings.

“Stop it!”

“What?”

“You are driving yourself crazy.”

“She’s no longer twenty years old… this is dangerous. And she’s running around in the bakery as if she’s not to give birth next month. And Andy’s not here to look after her.”

“Daisy knows what she’s doing, she has two more kids.”

“Yes, and Thomas is thirteen now. That’s a difficult age.”

Thomas bent his head to Richard’s shoulder hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

Everything around them was changing them. He wondered if they were changing with it, or if they stayed the same, two figures alone when everything around them swirled in manic panic.

* * *

“You close your eyes when we kiss.”

“And you don’t?”

“I do, it’s instinct, no?”

“Pleasure. People do things with their eyes when they feel pleasure. Last night for example, your eyes rolled back when I hit…” Richard brushed his lips against Thomas to stop him.

“And how do you know?” Laughing he settled by Thomas’s side pulling his long legs over his thighs.

“I saw you. You know I saw you.”

Richard knew it. Of course, he knew it. He’d been with Thomas for so many years, the first time they’d held each other, caressed each other, took each other and every other time that followed the first Thomas’ intense gaze burnt through him, never ashamed, never regretful.

He always saw him.

He was always seen.

Bodies connected in one, pleasure building inside them, Thomas’ eyes never left his, as the waves let them flow before taking them ashore. Sinking in the grey of Thomas’ eyes, falling into them, plummeting to their depth until he felt arms wrapping around his torso, pulling him to his chest, heart against heart, he could never tell what was more intimate, the joining of the bodies, or the steady gaze loving his every move and expression, hungry to absorb more.

“What do you think?” Guileless, wide eyes searched Richard’s for answers.

“You. I always think of you.” He held the gaze with one of his own that never failed to bring colour to Thomas’ cheeks.


	2. Touch Starved

Thomas flinched when Richard's fingers touched his neck. Richard dropped his hand and took a step back. he watched Thomas turning the other way, shame colouring his cheeks. Thomas' hand on his neck, stroking his skin was a memory he held dear in his lonely nights. Their kiss often revisited with want and longing.

When Thomas had written to him that he could visit him in London, Richard had thought they were on the same page. They had been writing, occasionally calling, each other, getting to know one another even from afar. Richard thought he had a certain level of understanding of Thomas Barrow. Seeing him getting off the train in the station, the man looked more handsome than ever in his dark suit and coat, his heart swelled inside his chest. Thomas' abashed smile, so different than what he had grown used to in London, was unguarded and Richard wanted to pull him in his arms and never let go.

Thomas talked on their way to the inn about settling in in his Butler duties after their departure. Richard nodded in all the right places and shared his own news reluctantly, his mind wandering in what there was to come when he and Thomas would be alone, away from prying eyes and ears. When Richard would be touched again with gentleness and reverence and something violent that lurked into shadows. Like the kiss they shared, but uninterrupted to continue.

They walked together side by side, shoulder touching shoulder, back of the gloved hand bumping against the other's. Secret smiles were shared. They entered slowly, they took their key, Richard nodded to his old friend and took Thomas by the elbow, steering him towards the room they would share. He closed the door behind him, keeping unwanted noises from downstairs and people who meant nothing to him at bay.

They were alone, at last. They pulled their gloves and hats off and stared at each other, no words coming from their mouths. Tongues stack to the palate. He reached over to touch and be touched, to kiss and be kissed, to take and be taken, to give and be given.

To meet resistance.

"Thomas?" Richard didn't like the sound of his voice, too meek and uncertain to be his, not the way he wanted to utter the name for the first time but staring at Thomas' back was jarring and wrong. He set his hands on Thomas' shoulders and turned him around to look at his face, to understand what he was dealing with. He was met with a distraught, pale face who looked everywhere except for Richard's face.

Was he too fast? He had to ask, but what to ask.

"It's... well," Thomas cleared his throat, and being brave, his eyes found Richard's. "It's been a while." Thomas crossed his arms and rubbed his hands up and down his upper arms.

Richard smiled, he hadn't been with anyone himself, since before he met Thomas. It wasn't a problem. He lifted his hand and touched Thomas' warm cheek. He said as much. "It's been _sometime_ for me too."

Thomas' undignified snort caught both men unaware. "Sorry," said Thomas. "I think it's been a little more than that for me." His own hand rested on top of Richard's keeping it there, eyes imploring him to understand without him having to say it. How much time exactly? Apparently longer than Richard thought. Apparently long enough to make Thomas warry.

"We can take it slowly."

"Slow is nice, but that's not exactly what I meant."

"It's not a romp in the hay."

Thomas nodded approvingly. "Good, that's good, right?"

"It's more than good." Richard pressed his lips to Thomas' taking them in a gentle kiss. The stiffness he felt beneath his hands was replaced by relaxation and here was the Thomas he remembered from their last -and first- kiss. Taking control and touching him, still gentle and docile, while being a force of nature, turning Richard's legs into something squishy unable to stand without support.

With no Andy to interrupt this time, Richard turned exploring the other man's face with hands and lips and nose into an art form. His lips trailed from Thomas' mouth to his jaw and prominent cheekbones, his nose nuzzled in the crook of his neck. Thomas shivered and the trembling passed to Richard’s body, something visceral, pulsating inside him, fighting to come out and claim.

Thomas' grip on his neck got tighter as he gave Richard more space to kiss and lick and have. Thomas came back to his senses, and his long fingers slipped inside his shirt collar to touch the skin beneath it. Richard gasped and he found Thomas' mouth again to nip and kiss and lick. This was the oasis he had been looking in the never ending desert of his life. Finally, water to refresh, and give him life, found in Thomas' mouth and in his kiss.

Richard opened his eyes to see Thomas' wide-eyed stare glued on his face. He smiled. It was the sun coming out after the storm inside the dark grey eyes. Richard wanted everything Thomas was willing to give him. He rubbed his hands over his shoulders, down his elbowa to the wrists, taking them prisoners between his fingers, his eyes never leaving Thomas'. He brought the gloved hand to his mouth, kissing each knuckle, tasting it with his tongue before he turned it over to nip at the tender skin between fingers and leather.

Before the night ended, he would know what was hidden under the glove.

They undressed each other slowly, touching and kissing every new inch of newly bared skin. They pulled off ties and waistcoats, undone the buttons and removed their shirts from their trousers, staring at the other as a piece of art slowly presented for their eyes only. A hot breath ghosted on Richard's neck, then the tender brush of lips becoming bolder, a tongue tasting the skin, the hand on his hair threading lightly, an arm around his waist pulling his closer to the hard body.

Richard pushed Thomas' shirt off his shoulders, leaving him in his undershirt and walked backwards to the bed. He gently pushed him down and pulled the undershirt from his trousers. He looked up at his flushed face and wide eyes. "Too much?"

Thomas shook his head. Richard pushed himself up on his elbows and covered Thomas' body with his own. "Are you sure?" His face half an inch away from Thomas'.

"Yes."

"Good." Richard bent his head and brushed his lips on Thomas' mouth before moving downwards again to settle on his thighs. He raised the white undershirt slowly, baring the skin slowly, touching with his fingertips, feeling the goosebumps, chasing them with his tongue and lips, licking around the navel earning himself a moan from Thomas cherished as much as the trust given to him. With gentle hands he trailed the skin of Thomas' sides revealing inch after inch of skin, peppered with dark hair, a contrast to the paleness of the skin. "Gorgeous. So gorgeous." And all of it his.

Thomas's hands rested on his sides, but Richard gently removed them, letting them rest on Thomas' left and right. "Keep them there for now, alright, love?" He didn't wait for an answer, but Thomas made no move giving Richard the opportunity to lightly touch the nipples, eyes on Thomas' face even as he leaned down to lick one and take it inside his mouth, move the tongue around it and suck it, a preamble of what Richard could do with his mouth to Thomas.

Thomas closed his eyes, head back, he gasped as pleasure ran through his body, hardening all over, down to his curling toes.

It had been so long, so very long to feel this, so close to another man, that Richard’s touch started uncomfortable to slowly turn warm and protective. The gentle fingers, warm hand, slick lips and tongue, they didn’t burn not exactly, but Thomas felt them down to his bones. It was a rebirth, relief coursing through his veins.

A hand on his chest, and the wet mouth on his neck, kissing, licking, sucking and Thomas curved his body to get closer, to fulfil the need of contact. He became fixated on Richard and the parts of his body that touched his own. His whole body tingled when Richard kissed his way to his mouth, tongue trailing along the seam of his lips asking to be allowed inside.

Thomas relented to the questioning begging and granted entrance, bright motionless whiteness burned behind his eyes when Richard wrapped his arms around his shoulders and then fingernails along the back of his neck, moving behind his ears, softly sratching the sensitive skin there.

Richard kissed as if his life depended on it, as if Thomas was the food he’d been denied for days, the light a plant had been missing. A pair of hands found his own, resting where Richard had told him minutes, hours, years ago. Fingers slipped through his own as he was kissed into oblivion, a state of pleasured numbness, when Richard’s hips pushed down on his own and shock electrified him to his core.

Richard pushed down, and Thomas pushed up and they moved against each other, like one, hands tightly held, lips sliding against plumb lips, erection rubbed against erection, hard against the other, equals in taking and giving pleasure.

Thomas opened his eyes, having no recollection of closing them. Richard’s kiss turned into a soft nipping of lips. “So gorgeous,” he whispered, voice rough and low echoing inside Thomas as he came closer and closer to his release. “I can’t wait to be inside you. Or feel you inside me.” His mind turned blank and be arched in total abandonment taking Richard with him.

Richard tried to move away to find a wet cloth to clean them up and fear paralysed Thomas. He wrapped his arms around him, needing the contact to not leave, needing Richard just where he was. “Stay.”

“I’m going to get us clean and come back…” said Richard and Thomas was left cold and bereft, aching at Richard’s absence. It only lasted for few moments, but it felt like eons, history changing, empires struck down, chill settling on his skin. Before it got too much, Richard was back, warm cloth cleaning evidence of their release from Thomas’ body leaving him clean again.

Richard lay on the bed, pulling Thomas’s limp, sated body in his arms. No words exchanged. “Thank you.” It was but a whisper against Richard’s neck and he couldn’t tell what for. He pulled the quilt on top of both and fell asleep with Thomas in his arms.

Where he belonged. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This snippet started with me researching the psychology of people who are not touched for long periods of time. Of course, most of those were about covid-19, but I found that they fit Thomas' character. Looked up symptoms of being touch starved. You won't be surprised to read feelings of depression is one of those, anxiety, stress, and bad sleeping some others. 
> 
> So, I knew where I'd go with "touch". Then... of course sex came into play. I am certain this will be the most expicit story I'll ever post and tbh I am not certain it rings real, but hey! fanfic, hopefully it reads just fine. I was a bit uncomfortable at posting it, but then I didn't think I'll write anything else if I didn't post this about touch and that was unacceptable.
> 
> Right?


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